Stew Story
by Elisabeth Daniels
Summary: Sequel to A Midnight Snack. The twins feed Aragorn some stew... with disastrous results.


Here is another short attempt...not quite as humerous or fluffy....  
  
  
  
Disclaimer: As much as I would love to say I own any part of Middle Earth, I cannot. Everything familar from that wonderful world where we all would like to get lost in belongs to our good friend J.R.R. Tolkien.  
  
  
  
Rating: A bit more graphic this time...let's go with PG to be safe (ok, additional note here...there are some people who get quite sick, if you don't like reading about that sort of stuff, you might not like this one)  
  
  
  
Beta: Once again I am eternally grateful to my beta Iridia....who doesn't mind staying up long hours to correct my spelling and grammer....and to continuously answer my random questions.  
  
  
  
A/N: I never really intended to write this one, but a few people wanted to know what happened with the stew mentioned in the last part I wrote. The idea was bugging me all day, so I had to write it. Besides I couldn't sleep again and writing seemed like a better option than staring at the ceiling in the dark and counting the marks up there. As before, any mistakes are mine. Hope you enjoy!!!  
  
  
  
Stew Story  
  
by Elisabeth Daniels  
  
Legolas had not been able to find Strider alone for the last two days. Ever since the incident in the kitchen, the twins had found ways of keeping Legolas or Strider busy, and never alone together. Yet, today was different. The snow which had been falling for the last two days finally stopped and the banks of drifted snow reached high up the castle wall. Concerned about the people of Imladris, Elrond had sent out the twins to see how everyone was faring.   
  
  
  
Finally alone for the day, Legolas and Aragorn enjoyed the day with their own particular breed of mischief. Strider had dug out an old sled from a hallway closet and talked the elf into a day playing in the snow. Legolas had not taken part in such shenanigans since he was an elfling, but he could not resist the innocent look on Strider's face. Knowing that resistance was futile, the elf bundled himself into a warm tunic and followed the warmly dressed ranger out of the house.   
  
  
  
Hours later, the two frozen companions returned to the house for a blazing fireplace and something warm to drink. They left behind them an army of snowmen, ruts in the snow where the sled had sped down the hill numerous times, and a battlefield pockmarked with snowballs. Both were soaked to the skin. Strider looked like a little boy, covered from head to foot in the dense wet snow; even Legolas, elf that he was, appeared slightly damp.   
  
  
  
Standing in the foyer, Strider began to shake the snow off from his outer clothes. "Mellon-nin, let's go change out of our wet clothes, and meet at the library in a half an hour."  
  
  
  
Wishing to remove his own damp garments, Legolas nodded his assent. "Let's see who gets there first." With that remark, the elf dashed off, leaving the wet and bedraggled ranger behind.   
  
  
  
Fifteen minutes later, Legolas was sure he had beaten his human companion back to the library--unfortunately, he was wrong. Strider stood at the bottom of the stairs, holding two mugs of steaming liquid and wearing a dry set of clothes. Handing one of the mugs to Legolas, Strider held a finger to his lips. "Shh. Follow me quietly if you want to hear a good story."  
  
  
  
Strider led the elf silently towards the library. As they neared the room, Legolas could hear the crackling of the fire and very familiar voices--Elladan and Elrohir had returned.   
  
  
  
"Legolas, don't spill your tea." Strider broke the silence of the hallway as he opened the library door. The twins voices stopped abruptly.  
  
  
  
Taking a quick survey of the room, Legolas realized the twins were lounging in two of the large overstuffed chairs facing away from the doorway. The only way they could leave the room was by announcing their presence; and from the conspiratorial whispers he had heard earlier, he was sure they did not want that. "Just trying to make sure you didn't try poisoning me." Legolas winked knowingly as Strider. "I see you have something different in your mug."  
  
  
  
"Of course. You don't like hot chocolate, remember. Besides, its Elladan and Elrohir you have to worry about poisoning you, not me."  
  
  
  
"Of course. You were going to tell me a story about some such incident, weren't you?"  
  
  
  
A nervous shuffling of feet echoed from behind the chairs. The twins were caught. They would have to stay and listen to their doom.   
  
  
  
"Grab a chair and drag it over by the fireplace," instructed Aragorn. Soon two more overstuffed chairs were place near the fireplace and the other two chairs.   
  
  
  
Lounging in the twin's favorite position--legs over one chair arm and back against the other--Strider began to reminisce.   
  
  
  
"About ten years ago, a few weeks after my twelfth birthday, Ada let the twins take me on my first hunting trip alone. Just the three of us boys...."  
  
  
  
***  
  
  
  
Estel carefully combed down his grey mare. The horse had been a birthday present from his Ada and he was quite proud of the fine creature. This hunting trip was the twins' birthday present to him. For years he wanted to join them on their hunts, but, until this year, he had always been told he was too young.   
  
  
  
They had ridden two days out from Rivendell to a favorite hunting spot of the twins', near a small stream. The days had been perfect--the sun was shining, a rare event in March, and the weather was warming nicely. Tomorrow they would begin the hunt, and it, too, promised to be a beautiful day.   
  
  
  
The horse nuzzled Estel, looking for a treat. "Sorry, Sulime, no carrots or apples this time." Estel patted the horse affectionately and led her to the stream. "Come on. Drink some."  
  
  
  
"Estel!" The worried voice of Elladan called from among the forest. "Estel, dinner is ready!"  
  
  
  
"I'm at the stream, 'Dan," Estel called back. He knew Sulime would not run away, but he hated to leave the gentle creature.   
  
  
  
Reaching the stream, Elladan smiled down at his youngest brother. He had always had a compassionate nature towards people and animals. "Come, little brother, we have created you a dinner like you have never had before. A meal gathered from only things found out here in the woods and stream. Fish, herbs, roots, all the best stuff."  
  
  
  
With one last look back at Sulime, Estel followed his brother back to the camp site. The scent of cooking stew caused Estel's stomach to grumble. "Is it as good as it smells?"  
  
  
  
"Should be. We make it every time we hunt." Elrohir lifted a ladle from the pot suspended by a tripod over the small fire. "Well, a variant of this one. We can never find the same ingredients twice."   
  
  
  
Estel rummaged around in his sack until he found his bowl and spoon. He had just filled his water skin down at the stream. He held the bowl up to Elrohir and smiled innocently. "Please, I'd like to have some stew."  
  
  
  
Elladan laughed. "Better give him a lot, 'Ro! His stomach was making quite a noise on the way over here."  
  
  
  
The innocence melted from Estel's face. "I can't help it if my stomach makes noises. It's the stew's fault. It smells too good."  
  
  
  
Joining his brother in laughter, Elrohir filled Estel's bowl to the brim. "Eat up, little bro; we have a big day planned tomorrow."  
  
  
  
Soon the small company was sitting down to a dinner of fish stew. Estel spooned big mouthfuls of stew into his mouth while Elladan and Elrohir quizzed him about hunting safety.   
  
  
  
"What is the first rule to safe hunting?" quizzed Elladan.  
  
  
  
"Know your target and what's beyond." Estel looked up at his brother for approval. Elladan nodded.   
  
  
  
Before either of the twins could continue the line of questioning, Estel raised a spoonful of soup to his nose and smelled it. "'Ro, this is good stew. Where did you get the parsnips at this time of year?"   
  
  
  
"There's no parsnips in there. Just some common herbs and fish. Now, let's see, next question. What do you do if someone has an arrow wound?"  
  
  
  
"Keep the area as clean as possible. Apply pressure. Steady the arrow and cut the shaft a couple of inches above the skin to keep it from making it worse. And I swear, I smell parsnips in the stew. Don't taste them though, the stew is slightly sweet."  
  
  
  
"Well, except for the last part, you are correct." Elrohir smiled at his brother, but he did also notice the odd sweetness to the stew.   
  
  
  
Estel stood up to serve some more stew when he felt an odd sense of nausea swell in his belly. He fell to his knees as cramps mercilessly gnawed at the cavity of his stomach. Soon, he was vomiting all over the ground and groaning in extreme pain.   
  
  
  
Shocked by the sudden and violent reaction of their brother, they rushed over to help Estel. Elladan felt queasy himself, though he was not sure if it was because he was watching someone else be sick… or if there was another reason.   
  
  
  
"'Dan," Elrohir whispered from the fallen log he was sitting on. "I can't stand up. When I try, I have a dizzy spell."   
  
  
  
Panic swelled inside the twins. Something was dreadfully wrong, and they were far from home and Ada. They were all experiencing the same alarming symptoms.   
  
  
  
"It was the stew, 'Dan. Estel was right." Elrohir began spewing the remains of his dinner as his stomach rebelled against his body.   
  
  
  
"But how? We made a basic stew." Elladan's own stomach began to cramp in protest to his movements. "Fish, angelica, parsley..."  
  
  
  
"It wasn't angelica. Remember, it was lacking the taste of celery. We crushed the wrong leaves."   
  
  
  
"No, don't tell me..." Elladan's protests were cut short by his own dissipation of the stew.  
  
  
  
"I think so. We must have picked children's bane."  
  
  
  
Elladan cursed aloud and found himself once more emptying his stomach of its contents. Of course, water hemlock smelled like parsnips when it was cooked; and it was sweet to taste. Ada had told them that. He had drilled the facts into their brains. Most poisonings caused by the plant were the result of its confusion with the harmless angelica. And, even worse, water hemlock was most deadly in spring.   
  
  
  
Painful moans from the tortured body beside his head drew Elladan out of his thoughts. Estel had begun to tremble uncontrollably as he murmured painfully to himself. Beads of sweat streamed down his quickly reddening face. To the touch, his face was cold and clammy. He spat out excess saliva which seemed not to cease flowing. His breaths hitched and gasped; every inhalation and exhalation was an extreme struggle for life. Small, choked choughs wracked his spent body.   
  
  
  
Elladan and Elrohir had finally emptied their stomachs of the remaining stew. The poisons still coursed through their own veins, but their concern for Estel outweighed the dizzy spells and cramps. They moved their trembling brother to a clean place away from camp.   
  
  
  
"We need to get the stew out of his system." Elladan laid Estel on his side so he would not choke on his own vomit.   
  
  
  
The boy's breathing remained shallow; his lips and nails had taken on a bluish shade. "He's not getting enough air." Worried that his brother would not survive to dispel the poisonous stew himself, Elrohir stuck his finger down Estel's throat. Estel coughed and gagged violently. Soon he was heaving the noxious stew out of his stomach. The process continued for awhile, until Estel could do nothing more than pant out dry heaves. His stomach was empty, but poison still remained within his body. Because he was human and smaller than his brothers, the poisonous plant had attacked Estel's system with a vengeance.   
  
  
  
Elladan attempted to offer Estel some water, but the boy could not swallow. The water just ran down his filthy face. He was still in danger, and would be until the poison was flushed from his body. If Estel could make it through the night, he might live.   
  
  
  
The twins were a mess. Vomit covered both elves' clothing and hair, but at the moment that did not matter. If they lost Estel!-- No, the thought was too terrible to even contemplate.   
  
  
  
The boy's head lay on Elrohir's lap. Elladan brought several wet cloths to his brothers. Handing one to Elrohir, Elladan used the other to wash Estel's face and hands. Estel's breathing remained shallow and uneven. Only time would tell if their brother had a chance.  
  
  
  
For the first half of the evening, Elrohir continued to sit with Estel's head in his lap, next to the new fire Elladan had made. Elladan could not sit still; he blamed himself for the tragedy. Ada had raised them with an in-depth understanding of wild herbs and plants. He knew the characteristics of poisonous and safe plants. Why had they picked the wrong one now, of all times? Infuriated with himself, Elladan cleaned up the campsite. All the remaining stew, he burnt in the fire. He washed the dishes and packed up the campsite; they would leave at first light.   
  
  
  
"'Dan," Elrohir called to his brother. "It's not your fault. I was there with you when we picked the herbs. We weren't paying attention." He picked up the still-clammy hand of Estel and felt for the pulse. It was as slow and painful and irregular as his staggered breaths. Estel had gotten no better, but they prayed to Iluvatar that it was a sign of hope that he had gotten no worse.   
  
  
  
As the rays of sunrise spread over the pitiful campsite, Elladan wrapped Estel in a blanket and lifted him onto his horse. Elrohir, weary from his night of sitting up with Estel, slowly mounted his own horse, and grabbed Sulime's reins to lead her home. The brothers rode at a quicker pace than the one they had used to reach the hunting grounds.   
  
  
  
In a day and a half, they reached the edge of Rivendell. Having been warned of his sons' unexpected return, Lord Elrond waited at the gate. As they approached, Elrond noted the riderless grey mare and the blanket-clad youth riding with Elladan. Estel had been hurt!  
  
  
  
The twins appeared dejected and in pain of their own. None of their usual playful banter announced their arrival. They stopped as they reached their father. Elladan was the first to speak. "I'm sorry, Ada. We accidentally poisoned the stew. Estel is suffering greatly because of our error."   
  
  
  
"Me, too, Ada, I am sorry. We didn't realize."   
  
  
  
Elrond knew that their sorrow was true and deep. They had been suffering, both emotionally and physically, for days. "Come, my sons. Go, clean and rest. We will talk later. For now, give me Estel and I will see to him."  
  
  
  
***  
  
  
  
"Ada spent the next two weeks with me, helping me battle for my life. The poison slowly worked its way out of my system, but I was weak for quite a while after that. Elladan and Elrohir were afraid to visit me for fear I would blame them, but when they finally showed up, all I made them do was promise to take me hunting again and, next time, to let me do the cooking.  
  
  
  
"I wasn't allowed to go hunting again that summer; Ada said the poisons had weakened my heart. Instead. I spent it learning more about plants and herbs, their uses for food and healing. I also learned how to cook, so I would be able to feed myself if need be."  
  
  
  
Legolas stared at Strider. "You know, I always used to think it was just us being together that caused trouble, but now I see you can do that quite well on your own. How many times have you been poisoned now?"  
  
  
  
"Too often. That was neither the first nor last time I almost died, but I think I'm getting used to it by now." Strider smiled. "Elladan, Elrohir. I know you're back behind those chairs. You can come out now."   
  
  
  
"I don't think so," Elladan's voice came from behind the chair.   
  
  
  
A muffled sound of hair scraping against fabric came from the other chair. The twins refused to leave their hiding spot.   
  
  
  
Strider jumped as a hand rested on his shoulder. "I think you have tormented your brothers enough, Estel." Lord Elrond stood behind Strider as he gently rebuked his son. "Go prepare yourself for dinner."  
  
  
  
"Yes, Ada." Strider stood and quickly exited the room. Legolas followed his friend out.   
  
  
  
"Boys, the same goes for you." Elrond looked over to the two remaining occupied chairs where the twins sat, red-faced and looking rather guilty. "Do not keep your guilt. Estel is fine. He can laugh at the story now; please try to do so as well. If you cannot, you will never get over your guilt over an offense for which you have been long since forgiven. There is nothing to hold against you."   
  
  
  
The twins nodded. Strider had told the truth when he mentioned when it was neither the first nor last time he had nearly died; and besides, he his cooking really was not that great. As they realized this, they laughed.   
  
  
  
"Good." Elrond smiled and touched a shoulder of each twin. "Stand up, wash up, and head to dinner. I will see you there." 


End file.
